


Slipping Out of Time

by The_Shy_One



Category: Constantine: The Hellblazer (Comics), Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Hellblazer, Hellblazer & Related Fandoms
Genre: Accidental Time Travel, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Newt Scamander, Crossover, Gen, Injury, Injury Recovery, Magic, One Shot, Smoking, Swearing, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:41:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28210011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Shy_One/pseuds/The_Shy_One
Summary: John wakes up in an unfamiliar room and wonders who was stupid enough to help him.
Relationships: John Constantine & Newt Scamander
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Slipping Out of Time

He woke up to the feeling of a soft mattress underneath him. The ceiling above was wooden, looking more like a small wooden house that John had seen from the countryside than any shitty ceiling of a motel or a temporary apartment in London when he stayed in the city. When trying to sit up a sharp bit of pain ran through his left side and John let himself fall back into the bed. He bounced only once before his body settled firmly onto the surprisingly soft mattress.

John was stuck wherever this room was for the time being and was also stuck with the poor bastard that decided to take care of him. With a sigh, he moved to find his cigarettes in the pocket of his trousers. If he was going to be stuck for however long it was, at least he could smoke some of his boredom away.

It didn’t take long for him to dig out the pack, nor for him to light it up. A few puffs and John was looking around the room. It was as homely as he figured it would be what with the wooden interior of the walls and furniture and the odds and ends of many things scattered across the room. The odd thing about it was the fact of how small everything was. John wasn’t one to say that there needed to be a lot of room when living alone - again he had seen his own share of settling in a shitty room for the night - but there had to be more than a meter’s width for any kind of company that you would eventually bring back. 

He lets smoke crawl out of his mouth, watching as it rose to the ceiling. Then after a moment, decides to take another look at the room. The items were mainly herbs, both common and rare enough that he had the niggling thought to swipe some for himself. It was something he’d seen from young witches when they were grasping magic for the first time. What threw him off was the odd objects that were laying on the desk that was nestled between two shelves across from the bed.

They weren’t anything he’d seen and he found that odd since there was a lot he had seen drifting from place to place, solving anything suspect that made the regular folk scream their heads off. Anything else, John found in the books that he acquired, always on the hunt for anything that would give him that edge in identifying those problems. Not having any idea of what these were put him on edge, itching to slip out without meeting the person who fixed him up. 

They might have done it out of the kindness of their heart, but it didn’t mean he was grateful that they did.

He tries to sit up once more, struggles to at least sit up enough to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. But John is momentarily stopped by the pain that goes up his left side, muscles and joints warning him that he shouldn’t move. Breathing heavily - close to panting really - at the strain he’s putting on his body, he pushes his body further and finds himself sitting up. 

It’s when he’s trying to get his legs to go over the edge that John finds himself falling towards the floor. A quick yelp escapes his mouth, cigarette falling to the floor before he finds his body hovering in the air, held steady by a burst of magic. John sweeps his eyes to the door on the other side of the room, seeing the person who healed his wounds. 

They held an arm up, wand in hand and face pulled tight as they cautiously walked closer to the bed. John takes notice of the old fashioned clothing, a bit muddy despite how thin the man was. There was a pause when the man was close enough, staring down at John with a worried look, eyes flickering between looking him in the eye and not looking him in the eye. 

Odd, but not the strangest thing John’s ever experienced. 

The man leans down, hand hovering over his back. His eyes - a lovely shade of blue, John notes to himself, watching as some red curly hair falls to cover part of the man’s forehead - flickered between eye contact and the side of John’s face. “I’m going to put you back in bed. Is that fine?” The man asks, his tone soft and accent familiar even if it was posh.

“Sure, mate. Not like I’m gonna hobble out of here despite how much I should.” John answers, accepting his fate. He feels the man wrap an arm around his back, the feeling of the man’s magic disappearing suddenly when John is firmly held. Then the man moves him back to the bed without jostling his injury too much.

They stare at each other for a moment, eyes holding contact until John watches the man’s eyes shift to the side. Quietly, he picks up the cigarette and hands it back to John, holding it as far as possible from his body. John takes it and notices that had gone out.

As he turns towards the desk, muttering to himself, John asks, “What’s your name?” as he uses a bit of magic to light his cigarette again.

“Newt Scamander,” He says, focused on the task he had at the desk. A few of the rarer herbs are picked up, disappearing from John’s view. “What’s yours?”

“John Constantine. Let me guess, you’re a wizard.” That got Newt to pause, his shoulders hunching as if he expected John to continue, to say something worse. It made John feel a bit bad, knowing that the man was kind, far kinder than many would be towards him.

He didn’t turn to face John as he said,” I am. Good for someone who dabbles in magic.”

“Am I that obvious to a practitioner?”

Newt turns, eyes hidden by the red fringe. John couldn’t see his expression, but he knew all the same that he was being watched. Studied as if he were a fascinating new creature that was discovered. He takes a drag, waiting for whatever Newt was going to say to him. 

“A bit. But you could pass for any muggle on the street, so it’s fine.”

“Muggle? That the word you posh wizards come up for normal people who ignore everything that can’t be explained by science?” John questioned, curious. He’d heard of the society of wizards who kept to themselves, didn’t let just anyone who had an affinity for magic join them in their schools. He had wondered what one would be like when meeting them.

Newt was a nice start, probably a lot friendlier than what he used to.

“Yes, well at least well I come from. Better than the word No-Maj from America,” Newt says as he goes back to the task at his desk. John swears he catches a hint of a smile on the man’s face when he turns around.

“Oh, that just sounds insulting. What’re they thinking?” John says, going for an insulting tone that’s meant to be funny.

He hit the tone right as Newt lightly chuckles, shoulders rising and falling. John relaxes into the bed, watching as Newt continues to work in silence. After some time, Newt turns back with a light green paste in the jar. He doesn’t look at John as he takes off the bandages, checking the wound that John had gotten from the faerie. It was done with care, the same with the paste that was applied to around the wound. 

Then as he puts new bandages over the wound, John asks,” What year is it, mate?”

“1929,” Newt answers, looking through his fringe at John once more.

“Shit.” He said, sighing. “That faerie bastard sent me back in time. Don’t suppose you got a way to send me back to my own time?”

“Not possible. At least with my current knowledge about magic.”

“Got any books I can study? I can usually jimmy myself some kind of spell in these kinds of situations.”

Newt stares at him with the same feeling John had felt a few minutes before. He waits, knowing that whatever the outcome will be decided with how willing Newt was in giving away knowledge by the secret wizard society. He’s betting there’s some laws about that even with sharing with those who can do magic.

“I suppose. Though I doubt you can find much here, I study about magical beasts.” Newt says, slowly. Like he was still a bit unsure if he should be doing this. But he seemed determined all the same.

“It's a good jumping-off point, I’ve gone on less before.”

“If you say so. Just don’t destroy my office and keep any valuables you have out of sight. The niffler likes anything shiny.”

“Alright,” John says, smiling. It takes a moment, but Newt returns it with only a bit of hesitance on his face. 

It was a nice smile. One that John wasn’t sure how he got it directed at him. But he was willing to bask in it while it was on the man’s face. 

Newt brings him some books, mostly with titles that look like it came from pretentious papers from expensive universities. But he flicks through it, hoping he’ll find a way to get home. If he learns something else along the way, it’ll give him that edge that he likes. Plus, how could he say no to spending more time with the wizard when he smiled with his whole being, like he had caught a few rays of the sun?

John couldn’t, is what he would answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Had this idea earlier this year (before the shitshow that was JKR showing her true transphobia self over the internet a few months back) since I love both characters and figured that it would be interesting to write them together. This will be the only time I'll write Newt, unfortunately, since I do not want to give any more of my creative energy to JKR or her stuff despite how much I loved Newt for being such a good character and good rep for being on the spectrum. Hopefully, I did him justice as well as his interactions with John, so that it was something fun to read.


End file.
